


Promised Eternity

by Laora



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Bad Ending, Gen, Suicide, dark AF, uhhh just generally. this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-20
Updated: 2011-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27123694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laora/pseuds/Laora
Summary: They never stood a chance.[Posted for the Good Intentions WIP Fest. It's incomplete and discontinued.]
Collections: Good Intentions: Abandoned and Unfinished WIPs





	Promised Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> worth noting again: **this isn't finished and won't ever be,** mostly because I completely lost whatever grimdark plot I was planning for it. it's just been in my wip folder for like,,, 6+ years, if i had to guess, and i'm sick of staring at it lol. clearly i had a plan at some point, and i'm leaving the structure of the rest of it that never got written, but...
> 
> warnings for uh like Everything Not Good. some violence (more implied/off screen, so I didn't think it warranted the tag), suicide, character death, insanity...
> 
> yea, I wasn't in a good place when I started writing this one basically and it uh shows
> 
> backdated to the approx year I think I wrote it, just so it won't show up at the top of my profile lol

_**They** _

_**never** _

_**stood** _

_**a** _

_**chance.** _

_._

_._

_._

_One small change  
in their desperate flight  
sends the whole world  
crashing down._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

**THE HEROIC  
** _{snow villiers is only a child.}_

Snow has always loved children.

He loves their energy and their cheerfulness and the way they can always, _always_ find the bright side of any situation. He loves their round cheeks and their big eyes and the way they never cease to be amazed by everything in the world, like it's all simply a miracle waiting to happen...

And even if he'll likely never see the children of Bodhum again, will burn through this brand like oil or die at the hands of the military he used to support...he wishes he could see them all, just one more time.

(He can't, though, and there are more pressing matters at hand. And he's a hero, so he pushes them to the back of his mind and does his best to forget.)

Hope and Vanille do nothing to help him focus, though, because they are only children themselves. The boy is quiet, brooding, while the girl is clearly hiding behind her sunny facade...but Snow does not question it. After all, they've just been victims of a horrible tragedy, and surely becoming a Pulse l'Cie would do this to anyone. So he keeps up a boisterous attitude, just like Vanille: strong and loud and confident to try and keep the others from despair. That's what heroes do, right?

(He thinks there's something familiar about the boy's face, his hair and his nose and his gait…but he can't pin it down, and quickly dismisses it as nothing. After all, as a member of NORA, he's met most of the citizens of Bodhum.)

(This will be his downfall.)

He loves children because Serah loves children, because her eyes light up every time a mother comes into the café with a babe on her hip. She is all smiles and bright eyes and _oh isn't she just precious_ and _he'll grow up to be a heartbreaker someday_ …

Serah loves children, so Snow loves children, and he will do anything to protect those he loves. _(And, someday, he'll make sure Serah makes it home safe and happy so she can have children of her own.)_ So when he sees Hope and Vanille, he sees the agony in his eyes and the desperate sadness in hers, and Snow vows he will do anything to make that go away. It's what Serah would do.

And then they find her crystal, lost and alone after their fall. He wants to stay with her, break her out of the landscape's embrace, because _this is Serah_ and _he will do anything to keep her safe,_ but the Sanctum is not far behind them, and Lightning is maybe even more stubborn than he is. She, together with Sazh, pulls him away, ignores his reaching hands and his desperate screams.

 _"We have to stay together,_ " she says, and even if he knows she is right…if saving himself means killing Serah, he would gladly sacrifice his life.

(He promises he'll come back for her someday. _Someday soon._ )

They are mostly quiet as they travel aimlessly, because where are they to go now? They are Pulse l'Cie, enemies of Cocoon; the military is focusing solely on finding and choking the life out of them. And even with the magic granted to them by the fal'Cie, even with all five of them ready and willing to fight…

_He worries that it won't be enough._

But he voices none of this, because Hope and Vanille are only _children_ and they do not deserve this fate. He will protect them—he will protect them all—and he will get rid of this damned mark on his arm. And then he will wake Serah from her crystal slumber, fight for Lightning's blessing, and move home. _They can still be happy._

(Right?)

The military is a swarm of locusts on the horizon, moving closer and closer. Snow knows they cannot outrun them; they cannot outrun airships and monsters and trained soldiers. But he also knows that they have to do their best— _he_ has to do his best—because he made a promise to Serah, made a promise to _everyone_ —and he'll die before he breaks it.

Lightning pushes them, harder, faster, because maybe if they get to Nautilus, Palumpolum, they can lose the military in the crowds. They can cover their brands, split up, _be safe…_ And Snow is sure that this is a hopeless dream, that they are doomed, but _they have to try anyway._

They're running running running, running forever from a foe they cannot escape, and as the military gets closer and closer Nautilus seems so far away. And when they're within shooting distance, and Lightning comes up with a desperate plan to save their lives— _Snow, you go with Hope and Vanille to Palumpolum and Sazh and I will try for Nautilus—_ he follows it without question. She's the soldier, after all—the tactician and the defender and their best hope for survival. He would argue to let the children go with her, to let Hope and Vanille travel with the one who can best defend their lives...but Vanille is already pulling him one way, away from the others, and he has no choice but to follow.

Maybe it's because there are more of them in this group. Maybe it's because Lightning is ex-Guardian Corp (he's sure he sees some of them sprinkled in the army, now), and they're holding onto some form of sentiment.

But the military chases after _them_ rather than Sazh and Lightning, and Snow knows there's absolutely no way they're going to make it to Palumpolum in time.

He can make out individual soldiers, now, when he turns around to check. He urges the others to keep going, tries to stay positive, but he knows there's no chance of all of them making it out alive. His brand is burning bright, is scorching his arm, and he knows he's almost out of time. (This despair he's feeling, this pit in his stomach that screams _you will never see Serah again,_ is devouring his very soul. _He has to do_ _**something**_.)

He's made up his mind even before he stops, even before he turns to face these hundreds of soldiers head-on. Maybe it won't stop them all. Maybe they'll still go after these children he's trying so hard to protect. (But maybe they'll make it to the city and be safe.) And maybe he won't die. Maybe they'll let him become a Cie'th instead.

But maybe he doesn't care what happens to him anymore, because there's no hope left. He's not a hero. He's never been a hero. What he is about to do is not heroic; it's simply what needs to be done. _He has to save the children._

_Serah, I'm so sorry..._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**THE INNOCENT**  
_{hope estheim loses himself to the rage.}_

He sees Snow turn, sees him plant his feet and hears him scream at them to run. And he knows exactly what the man is doing—he's going to take on the military himself, because he so enjoys playing _hero_ that he's going to sacrifice his life just to keep up the facade.

_What a fucking idiot._

Vanille stops as well, horror flooding her face, and begs him to keep going, to run with them, because _we can make it_ and _you'll die if you do this_ and _please, you're our only hope_ , but Snow has made up his mind. And Hope knows that a hard-headed idiot like that will never waver just because a couple of _kids_ want him to run, so he yanks Vanille's arm none too gently, pulling her away from the madman who took his mother's life. He'll be damned if he'll let this girl die as well.

"Vanille! Hope! _Go!_ "

Those are the last words he ever hears Snow speak, and he doesn't care. Maybe in a different world, in a different time, he might have cared about the man...but now, after everything that has happened, he willingly, _gladly,_ leaves him to die at the hands of the Sanctum. It's what he deserves, after all; what sort of _hero_ puts a gun in the hands of a mother? Allows her to die as her son watches helplessly?

They are running, now, faster and faster and faster toward Palumpolum, and even when he sees huge flashes of light and hears tortured screams behind him, Hope does not turn.

(He recognizes the voice. It's Snow. He should care, he thinks, but he does not.)

All he knows is the wind in his face, Vanille's sweat-slicked hand in his own, and the distant image of his hometown slowly swimming into view. Vanille has stopped begging him to turn around, has stopped pleading for that bastard's life. She is silent, now, only following behind him as they dash desperately for safety.

He doesn't dare turn around, because he thinks he may lose his nerve if he does. He feels no remorse for leaving Snow to his death; he feels no pain or sorrow or regret. There is simply the emptiness left behind by his mother, the most wonderful woman in the world... And he thinks, vaguely, that shouldn't this have brought him peace of mind? Shouldn't Snow Villiers' destruction have brought him closure? But he feels nothing of the sort; the pain of his mother's death is raw as ever, burning and bleeding and killing him, ever so slowly.

He doesn't even think to wonder whether Lightning and Sazh are safe. All he cares about, now, is getting himself to safety...and if Vanille is pulled along for the ride, that's all right with him.

They're near the border of Palumpolum, now, and he wonders vaguely why the military is not pursuing them. Finally glancing over his shoulder, he sees nothing but destruction where Snow had made his last stand; nobody seems to be left there...

 _(He thinks he sees one figure, hurtling toward him and Vanille, but they can take on one person, right?_ )

And when they arrive within the city, their brands are covered and they act as any normal teenagers would. Nobody thinks anything of them; after all, what are two children in a city of thousands? So they find his father's house and stay there for as long as they dare. Bartholomew Estheim has never truly been a father to him, but right now, a roof over their heads is all Hope cares about; surely, by the time reinforcements arrive, they will be long gone. He knows they need to find a way to get to Lightning and Sazh, and if they ask about Snow...well...there was nothing they could have done to save him.

(He feels the last of what once was his innocence shatter, but he is too far gone to care.)

They rest up and eat and recover at Bartholomew's house before they take off again, finding the most direct route to Nautilus and taking it, running under the cover of night and forest and any other camouflage they can find. The world rushes by in a blur; all Hope can see is his mother falling into oblivion, covered in blood, her eyes glazed and dulled and _dead._

(No matter how horrific Snow's death was, he will never forgive the man for what he did to her.)

Oftentimes, Vanille has to pull him aside, dive into bushes or climb up trees or jump into caves, because the military knows their faces and they have hovercrafts everywhere. He barely notices these things; he does not care; all he wants to do, now, is destroy the Sanctum, destroy the fal'Cie, destroy _everything._ Maybe then, just maybe, this gaping hole in his soul will finally be filled.

(Nora Estheim is dead.)

He doesn't remember much of their journey; he doesn't see the way Vanille's face has grown pale and gaunt and the way her steps have become uneven and the way she hardly sleeps. She does not matter; nothing matters to him; the world is a dull landscape without his mother. He simply does not care anymore.

One day—it starts off as any other, he thinks, but how is he to know?—a woman with wild black hair clad in blue intercepts them in their desperate flight. He has his weapon out before he can even think. Is she a military officer? Is she someone he can, finally, take his rage out upon?

But Vanille gives a cry of astonishment, of disbelief and surprise and joy, and flings herself at the woman, throwing her arms around her and letting out a sob.

"Oh, Fang...thank God...I didn't know where you were and..."

They hold a conversation that Hope does not really listen to. Clearly, she is not a threat, if Vanille trusts her so unconditionally...but that leaves him with no one to attack, no one to hurt to make himself feel better. And he knows he can't harm Vanille or this other woman (only because they increase his chances of survival) so who else is there to take the hurt but himself?

And then he realizes, in a moment of sudden, startling clarity, that maybe this is all his fault.

(Mom Sanctum Snow military Vanille Lightning Sazh EVERYONE)

Maybe everything is his fault.

Maybe he's fallen so far that he can't even tell up from down anymore,

and maybe he doesn't care.

But this world—really, what does it matter if he lives or dies? He knows Vanille does not trust him; in moments of sanity, rare and few, he sees the fear in her eyes, the way she never meets his gaze, as if scared of what will happen if their souls connect in such a way.

(He's not even human anymore, now is he?)

L'Cie aren't human, because they're slaves to the monsters who create and destroy worlds. He's not human because of this damned brand on his arm, concealed but ever-present, burning _burning_ _**burning**_ until there is nothing of his sanity left.

(And then he'll become a Cie'th, and he won't even be alive.)

The world is just a fucked-up place, isn't it? The world is a place that sends fourteen-year-old boys to their deaths, makes them watch their mothers die, makes them fight and bleed and lose _absolutely everything_ for no reason at all.

And the world is all-powerful, so there's nothing he can do about it...

Even _he_ knows that, and there's nearly nothing of his sanity left. So what does it matter if he's dead?

He's made up his mind, now, even before he realizes the knife is in his hand, even before he understands exactly what he's doing. The only person he lived for was his mother... And now that she is gone, the world has no place for a damned child such as himself.

He realizes, vaguely, that Vanille and the woman have stopped talking; he realizes that they are staring at him in something like alarm as he raises the knife to his throat. He realizes that they will try to stop him.

He realizes that he does not care.

There is a slash, and a scream, and a fountain of blood...

And then there is nothing.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**THE STRONG**  
_{lightning farron has lost everything.}_

...

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**THE PROTECTOR**  
_{oerba yun fang cannot save the ones she loves.}_

...

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**THE LOST**  
_{sazh katzroy cannot stand to see the young fall so soon.}_

...

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**THE HOPELESS**  
_{oerba dia vanille has ruined too many lives.}_

...

.

.

.

.

.

 **THE BEGINNING**  
_{it's all exactly the same...but they don't know it just yet.}_

...

.

.

.

.

.

 _In the end_ , _they cannot possibly win._

_(After all, they're quarreling with the gods.)_


End file.
